Funk, no not the music.

“There are two kinds of people in the world, birthday people and not birthday people. Not birthday people don’t make a big deal out of their birthdays, after all it’s not about an accomplishment. Birthday people are the exact opposite.” – Emily Owens M.D.

I have been both a birthday person and not one. But recently this day has not been my favourite day, which I have come to believe it a little odd-ish for someone of my age, and it actually has been like that for the past couple birthdays. I’m thinking that the early onset of this day is regret and looking back at how little I feel like I’ve accomplished.

I know 25 isn’t that old in the grand scheme of things but as the day draws closer I can’t help but think about it. And in all honesty it’s not even about my birthday, not exactly anyways.It’s just that I’m seeing all these people my age starting their own families then there’s me, I don’t know how to meet women let alone have any hint at if they would even be interested in me romantically. It’s not even that I think I’m ready to start my own family it’s that I’m not even close, I have not romantic prospects, absolutely none. And I think it’s just as hard that I don’t even have a simple crush, besides nostalgically or on a celebrity in years.

Above in italics is a perfect example of why I don’t post nearly as often as I would like to. Sometimes my writing gets away from me, now usually this isn’t a problem because I end up on interesting tangents but sometimes I find myself in a bit of a funk and my writing ends up being whiney, complain-y, and all woe is me. Truly, that is not at all what I am wanting to post on here so it frustrates me to no end when that’s all that my writing ends up producing.

Now normally I don’t let it get that far and just choose to close my notebook and give it time. I’ve also let myself write dark to get it out, but more often it’s just small bursts like this. But I think that’s how it is with everyone you want all the good and none of the bad. But I mean sometimes you need the bad to just show you how good it is when it is good.

So when you find yourself in a funk whether it writing or whatever I’ve found that there are usually two ways of dealing with it. First being to push through it; break through the wall that is funk with perseverance. Second is to give it time, in the same way that “Time heals all wounds” time tends to break funk down. But they both have their own advantages and disadvantages, it’s different for each person, and it’s even different for each situation. For me, as may seem obvious I tend to lean towards the give it time option, hence the breaks between posts. But then I don’t really try to push through, but that’s because when things get frustrating I just tend to switch to a different project.

With that I do thank those of you who regularly check this blog for updates, and those of you who read when I do post

Post Script: Happy New Years, plus one month. This winter has been weird, as I am finishing this it is the 1^st of Feb and as of so far there hasn’t been snow. And I live in Canada. It’s weird.

In Memoriam.

Now I don’t claim to be the right person to write this, because I didn’t know the man, and I never even met him. I only know him through some of his work. (If that could be considered knowing.) I am of course talking about the late Robin Williams. This is written in his memory; it is a thank you letter of sorts.

I’d like to preface his by saying that of the many things I am, one of them is an escape artist. Meaning that when I find myself in a bind or a tough situation in general I tend to escape if that means cutting ties, submerging myself into work, or ignoring the world by diving into the many worlds of books, movies or video games; even your own imagination can be an escape. I’ve been escaping reality for as long as I can remember. This is because growing up wasn’t always the easiest thing for me and escaping was.

Most of the Robin Williams movies that I’ve watched for the first time were in a period before Netflix, Facebook, or even Myspace, in the 90’s and early 2000’s. This was the time period of my life where I found myself in elementary school, most of which I found myself getting bullied at school and part of it I found myself getting verbally abused at home. So I would escape because that’s what came naturally to me. At that time my preferred modes of escape were TV/movies and my own imagination, and besides Star Wars my most commonly watched movies were comedies because who doesn’t link to laugh when they’re having a bad day. So I would watch Aladdin, Mrs. Doubtfire, and Hook… his kid-centric movies. Then as I got older I’d watch Jack, Jumanji, Bicentennial Man. And though my taste in movies matured I still went on to enjoy his style. And I’d laugh and be happy during the time his movies provided; they allowed a brief escape from my reality.

But I didn’t stop watching his movies once my reality changed, it only meant that I didn’t have to rely or use them to make me laugh. I could watch them for the purpose of enjoyment, because I wanted to, I could even watch Robin Williams’ movies for nostalgic reasons.

I wish I could have met you and told you this in person, and sadly now I cannot. But Thank you Robin Williams, for all that you’ve done for me and everyone else that you’ve touched.

O, captain my captain. You Will be missed.

No post script here, not this time.

Loss...

I have a hard time crying in front of people, and this is for purely a vain reason. Crying is not a nice thing to do or to look at. But today, I did, I couldn't help myself. I lost someone very close to me today. Now it's not that I didn't see this coming, he was 16 years old and for a male house cat that is definitely not young. Also over the past year he slowed down, and his ability to climb stairs and onto the couch diminished greatly, he lost the ability to contract some of his claws, and near the end of May, he had a major seizure and since then I noticed yesterday that he had lost weight and wasn't cleaning himself as thoroughly as he used to. Also I knew this was coming when my mom told me that she had made the appointment to have him released from his pain and that was today. So this afternoon me and my mom put him in his cat carrier and took him to the vet, and before I even got out of the car, my mom handed me a napkin because I had already started crying. And even though with knowing that this was going to happen and time to prepare for this I still felt the entirety of this. The pain of loss is not something that you can appropriately suppress.

So my cat, he was more than just a pet, he was a member of our family. Here’s a little perspective. I have a brother and he is 15 so we've had Spunky (the cat) for a little longer than he has been out of the womb. He's been with us through every family move from city to city we've done and he's lived everywhere that I've lived. Not to mention that he was my first pet.

He did live a long and full life; he lived in four different towns and even more different houses. He fought a wild raccoon and won, he brought a multitude of birds, snakes, and mice to our door step as thank you gifts. He had a great hunters' spirit when he needed it but he also was always there to snuggle up and meet anyone who came through the door. He never brought home fleas, and would always try and clean out my beard whenever I've had one. He was the kitty that did it.

There's no doubt in my mind that he will be missed and that I will remember him always.

Post Script:

This is the best tribute I could bring myself to make. It is just really hard.